"Is that boy going to keep loitering around or is he going to actually buy something?" Mr. Yoshida's gruff voice sounded next to him. The man's irritated words falling short as Izuku detected the barely concealed amusement in his tone.
It's been a couple of days since his reunion with Bakugou.
Since then, the boy has been coming to the store every morning. Although he figures that the teen doesn't realize that Izuku knows he's there. Given that Katsuki never actually says anything or tries to interact with him directly.
Nonetheless, Midoriya feels the teen's eyes following his every move from the minute he steps into the room up until the moment he steps out. Scanning Izuku, observing him for any sign of-- something. Izuku isn't quite sure what... Maybe some kind of indication that Izuku is safe and healthy. He's honestly not sure.
He tries his best to ignore it though. If that's what Bakugou needs in order to move on and forget about him... then so be it.
That doesn't mean he doesn't feel the slight pang in his heart every time the teen leaves without talking to him.
Despite his determination to disregard the other boy's watchful gaze. An involuntary sigh of relief escapes him when the teen finally decides to leave, probably satisfied with whatever he saw today. With a soft click, the convenience store's door slides shut behind him. Almost immediately, he can feel his body losing some of its gathered tension and he allows himself to relax, to breathe.
A suppressed coughing fit finally bursts from his mouth as he frantically reaches for the box of paper tissues on the counter in front of him. Hissing as his throat- already scrapped raw- pangs with each wet cough that forces itself out of his abused system. The morbidly familiar taste of copper once again rising to the surface, probably visible in the white tissue that resides in his grip. A dark, noticeable red, he imagines.
He can feel Mr. Yoshida's eyes on him, but he finds himself more preoccupied with the breath he's trying to force into his deprived lungs.
After what feels like a lifetime, but can't be more than a few seconds. He breathes again. The episode, finally over.
He stands there for a few more minutes afterward. Hands gripping the counter, knuckles white as he supported his weight against the cold marble-like structure. Not fully trusting his body to obey him just yet. When he feels like his legs aren't going to betray him, he straightens out. Huffing lightly as he gets back to work, electing to ignore his boss's palpable worry.
He really needed to see a doctor.
He pushes through the rest of his shift with only that thought in mind.
It was going to be a long day.
____________________________________
It's barely noon when Mr. Yoshida insists that he leaves early. A rough and impatient 'Go home, boy, you're scaring off the customers.' The harsh words barely serve to conceal the underlying worry in the older man's voice. Making it even harder for Izuku to protest.
Patrol isn't an option at this point. Therefore, with no other reason for him to stall and avoid the impending confrontation. He makes his way to the hospital.
Limbs stiff with tension as he climbs onto the correct bus. The one headed for his chosen destination.
Dread pooled in his stomach as he got closer and closer to the one place he's been avoiding for years now. The place that lingers at the back of his thoughts. Reminding him of a time that had greatly affected him. White sterile walls that had witnessed his life changing forever. His entire world spiraling out of control as a consequence.
Choosing to avoid that particular train of thought, he plugs his earphones into his ears. Electing to listen to any new messages he'd received from Shinsou that day.
The first messages he hears are what he usually gets from his friend at this time of day. A greeting, an inquiry of his whereabouts and his well being, the usual. However, what makes him pause is the boy's final message.
It goes something like this;
'Look, I know you don't like the whole meeting new people and getting attached thing but... I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to my friend's study group tonight. Our final exams are coming up and they decided to meet up at Yaoyorozu's house- she's the class vice president and she's like, really smart.' Shinsou seems to catch himself before he can deviate from the subject. 'Anyway, what I really mean to say is that it could be fun. We won't spend the entire time studying and I don't know... I think you could use a change of pace, right? Meet some of my friends, maybe even help us with some of the subjects? I know you know most of the stuff already. I've seen the stacks of books you keep in the warehouse.' The teen chuckles and Izuku can picture the grin that's definitely etched on the boy's features. 'I won't make you, but just... give it some thought, okay? See you.' The voice message ends with a click and his phone declares their end.
Humming in thought, he lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He'd heard the intent in his friend's voice. And although Shinsou would never say it outright, Izuku knows that the teen has wanted to introduce him to his other friends for quite some time.
Izuku's heart warms at the thought of his friend. Shinsou has come a long way from the closed-off boy he'd bumped into that day. It felt like a lifetime ago. At a time where things didn't seem so complicated. He's glad that Hitoshi managed to find some real friends. People who care about him and take care of him.
Maybe it's not that bad of an idea to meet them. Observe their interactions himself.
Making up his mind, he quickly sends the teen a confirmation. Stowing his phone away and back into his pocket as the bus driver announces their arrival.
His hand grips at his walking stick as he makes his way onto the pavement. Extending his senses towards his destination until he's facing the desired building.
He feels some curious glances shot his way as he makes his way through the lobby, but no one actively tries to stop him.
Stepping in front of the secretary's desk. He clears his throat to gain the attention of whoever is sitting on the other side.
"Can't you see I'm bus-"The woman starts, irritation evident in her tone, but stops abruptly as she finally lifts her head to look at him. "A-Ah" She stumbles slightly with the rest of her sentence. "W-what can I help you with?" She asks politely and Izuku wants to laugh at the obvious discomfort he's causing her.
Rubbing the back of his neck bashfully he tries to get the interaction over with. He doesn't want to keep her any longer from whatever she was doing before his arrival. "I- uh- was wondering if I could meet with Doctor Hiro? I'm an old patient of his and-"
The woman, however, interrupts him before he can even finish his sentence. "Look, kid, the doctor doesn't meet with anyone who walks in here and wants to. He's a very busy man. So, you need an appointment." She states sternly, no trace of the previous stammering in her voice. "I can probably fit you in for the 13th two months from now. Otherwise-"
"I can't" It was his turn to interrupt her now. "I- I mean, I need to see him now." He says, trying to convey the urgency behind his words. She doesn't seem to be affected in the least.
However, whatever protest, she was about to voice out is cut off by a third voice coming from a few paces behind him. "It's okay." The kind and slightly familiar voice ensue. Vaguely, Izuku realizes that he hadn't perceived the person's approach. Too focused on the women in front of him. It seems the secretary hadn't noticed the new arrival either if the way her breath hitches slightly is anything to go by. "I have time to see Midoriya-san now Karen." The man- Doctor Hiro- he concludes with a start, steers Izuku towards the elevator with an arm lightly rested on his shoulder.
It takes him a moment to replay the man's words in his mind. Head immediately turning to inspect the doctor's form. Trying to piece the man's presence with the vague one from his memories. "You remember me." The phrase comes out of his mouth as more of a statement than an actual question. The doctor had referred to him by name.
"Contrary to general beliefs. I never forget my patients." The doctor answers simply, voice as firm and calm as he recalled it to be. "Especially not one such as yourself." Before he can even think of the meaning behind the man's words, the elevator dings and Doctor Hiro is already walking out of it. Izuku scrambling to follow the man. Walking stick swiping across the ground to keep up pretenses.
They walk down an empty hallway until they reach a room on the very end. The telling clicks and scrapes of a key reach his ears and they both step into what he presumes is the doctor's office. The man quickly ushers him towards a patient's bed on the far side of the room.
"Sit, sit." He urges. The man himself, taking a seat on the stool opposite of Izuku. "Now... first and foremost, I'm glad to see you Midoriya-san. It's been what? Three years?"
"F-four actually." His throat feels really dry as he says so. The looming time limit rearing its ugly head over him once more.
"Ah." Doctor Hiro answers simply. Clearly remembering the unspoken implication behind the number. "Yes. Time... is a peculiar thing, isn't it? One can never get enough." The words hang heavily in the silence. The only sound being the soft whirring of a couple of machines cluttered in the corners of the room. "I think you of all people know this to be true." He continues not unkindly.
His response catches in his throat. The words, refusing to slip through his clenched teeth. Finally, he manages to mutter a few words. "I'm... not sure four years still stand." He tries slowly. Hoping the doctor wouldn't ask him to repeat himself.
He feels the man's stance change as he takes in the words. His voice is grave when he responds. "And why would you think that?"
Images rise before his eyes. Flashes of memories, fresh and sharp as photographs. Dizzy spells, coughing fits, random nosebleed, and bone-deep tiredness. "Just a feeling." He says instead. Glad he's chosen to wear his tinted glasses today. The accessory serving to hide whatever emotion must have flitted through his eyes as he recalled the instances.
The doctor seems to notice anyway, though. His stance straightening once again. Hands drumming against his pant leg as he seems to mull something over. "I'll run some tests and see what we can find, then." He concedes finally. Body already moving across the room to gather whatever equipment he needs.
"I don't have a lot of money." Izuku blurts out suddenly. Knowing how expensive these kinds of tests could be sometimes. "F-For the tests I mean." He stammers when he feels the questioning glance the doctor shoots him.
"I'll implore you not to worry about that Midoriya-san."
Nodding his head hesitantly, not really understanding the doctor's motives. However, electing not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He lets the man proceed.
After a few minutes of work, the doctor steps back in front of Izuku. Trailing a small cart next to him. A series of equipment stacked on top of the moving structure. "Please remove your shirt and lay down Midoriya."
Cursing himself internally for forgetting this part of the checkup. He hesitantly lifts his hoodie up and off his frame. A shiver involuntarily racking his body as the cool air hits his skin. His scars tingling slightly under the doctor's watchful gaze. Izuku doesn't want to imagine what his body must look like now. He's accumulated somewhat of a list of battle wounds. Injuries he's racked up over the years.
However, instead of the anticipated interrogation, he expected to receive. The doctor only seems to nod once resolutely and proceeds to begin the examination.
A blood sample was taken for speedy testing, his lungs, and heart examined along with multiple other tests and a few hours later. Izuku gets to put his hood back on. Happy with the familiar comfort it brings him now that he waits for the doctor's verdict.
A ding resounds through the room as the computer alerts them of the incoming results.
He can feel the man's frown from here. Sense the unease spreading wearily throughout the room.
"Midoriya-san..." The man starts slowly. Voice deliberately even as he speaks. "Have you been subjected to any kind of quirk recently? Any kind of treatment or medication?"
It takes a moment for him to register the question and another to think about it. However, when he does, he can't help but suck in a sharp breath. "H-healing quirk." He says breathlessly. "R-Recovery girl."
"I thought so," Hiro states grimly. Izuku can sense his fist clench and unclench from his place on the patient's chair.
A heavy, almost loaded silence falls over them as the doctor seems to gather his thoughts enough to speak. However, probably sensing Izuku's growing anxiousness. Hiro explains.
"Am I right to assume that you already know the general aspects of Recovery girl's quirk, Heal?" He asks tentatively. Waiting for Izuku's nod before continuing. "I'm afraid that instead of healing you like any other person. Recovery girl's quirk reacted differently to the chemicals already in your system." For the first time since the start of their interaction, the doctor looks hesitant. Tired. "By accelerating the healing rate of the injuries you had at the time, the quirk unintentionally kick-started the acceleration of another aspect of your condition. In other words. Her quirk accelerated the chemical's effects on your body. Speeding up the process and therefore nullifying the quirks that previously slowed down the chemicals."
"S-So the chemicals are no longer progressing slowly? Can't you use the same quirks you used last time to slow down the process again?" He hated how hopeful his voice sounded to his own ears. How naïve.
"I'm afraid not. Most of the chemicals in your system have changed by now. Adapted to your body and integrated into your very own composition. Slowing it down would only hurt you further."
"H-How long?"
"Midoriya you-"
"How. Long?" He repeats, mind feeling as if he's been plunged deep underwater. Static ringing in his ears as he awaited the sentence. Because that's exactly what it was. Wasn't it? A death sentence.
"Seven months. Nine at best." Hiro says. Voice strong and unwavering. Electing to treat Izuku as an equal. Instead of the child, he'd met all those years ago.
"Okay." He finds himself, saying finally. No emotion in his voice as he moved to stand up. Body strangely firm as he planted his feet on the ground. Moving as if on autopilot.
"I have some medications here for the possible side effects, you'll be experiencing. That is if you haven't started already. They won't serve to change anything but... they will allow you to proceed with your life as usual. If not only to be more careful with stamina and limit over-exertions." The man says with a surprising knowing look in his eyes as he hands him a bag full of what he assumes is the mentioned medication. Followed shortly along with instructions on how to take them.
Accepting the offered bag he stops short of leaving. "Thank you." He whispers lowly and walks out.
Not paying enough attention to hear the doctor's muttered response.
"You're welcome... Shadow."
____________________________________
Hiro has been working as a doctor for a very long time. However, in all his career, he's never met anyone like Izuku Midoriya.
The boy had been dealt with a series of bad cards in his short life. A horrifying tragedy proceeded by a life-altering condition and a limited lifespan at that.
He didn't make the connection at first.
Didn't tie the notorious vigilante with the blind quirkless orphan he'd treated all those years ago.
People talk. And when you spend your days in hospitals you tend to hear things. The tales of rescued victims aren't hard to come by. People whose lives have been rescued, saved, and changed forever by an obscure shadow who always seemed to appear at the right time. Helping people without seeking any kind of retribution or credit.
He's heard more and more often people speak of his name. Whispers of his look and his strengths. Of his selfless sacrifices and endeavors.
Yet, he didn't make the connection until he encounters one particularly disturbed medic. The woman was a frequent visitor to the hospital. Given the nature of her profession. In fact, they'd interacted many times in the past.
However, on one particular night. She'd been so distraught. Rambling about the vigilante and the strange information she'd gotten through the use of her quirk.
Young and Dying. Strange levels of chemical substances in his bloodstream.
He didn't believe it at first. However, the more he paid attention to the vigilante. Things seemed to simply fall into place.
The timeline. The orphanage reports he'd gathered and finally his general knowledge of his old patient.
It all fit. A strange, tragic puzzle that he'd formed and gathered into place. A deep sense of honor and pride settled in his heart at the thought of the role he'd played in all of this. The aid, albeit quite small and unsubstantial, he'd given to the small hero.
Somehow, without even knowing it. The world had gained a precious hero.
The question was, for how long?
______________________________________
Walking out of the hospital. A strange sense of unreality settled over him. As if he'd been plunged into a state of complete numbness and unawareness. His mind was quiet. Blank. Almost serene as he walked. Walking stick all but forgotten as he elected to just hold it in his hand. Not bothering to actually use it.
He felt strangely disassociated. As if his mind was somewhere far, far away from his body.
He was somehow glad for it. Glad for the barrier that blocked his mind from registering the storm of emotions that surely brewed behind the threshold he called his heart. Glad for the momentary escape, he was being granted by his own cowardly subconscious.
Contrarily, his senses worked on overload. His brain compensating for the absence of active emotions for his body to move and act. He could hear the bristling crowd around him. Moving on the streets and pavements. Getting on with their lives as if nothing was wrong.
He could feel the light breeze that shifted and wafted through the air. An indication of the perfect weather that adorned this particular day. The warmth of the setting sun on his skin as he lifted his head. Staring without seeing in the sky above.
It was funny really. How, despite his shattering world. Despite the raging emotions that threatened to overwhelm and drown him from the inside out.
It was still truly and honestly a beautiful day.
Despite the suffocating sense of anger that boiled down to his very heart. The unfairness of the world and the life he'd been dealt with. The life that suddenly and abruptly came crashing down on him.
A weight he'd been carrying for so long suddenly felt heavier than ever.
His legs trembling as if he'd been thrust onto the edge of a cliff. A mountain where all he could possibly do is look down and brace himself for the impending, unavoidable fall.
An involuntary laugh erupted from his throat without his consent. The sound was strange and so very wrong to his ears. Cold and humorless.
He was borderline hysterical now. His outburst gaining more than a few glares and lingering glances by onlookers as he let himself go for once in his life.
He laughed and laughed and soon enough his laughs turned to choked sobs. Tears uncontrollably leaking from his unseeing eyes as he noted once again the particular beauty of the day.
The beauty he'd only get to see for a limited time.
Because that was the truth wasn't it?
Despite his shattering universe. The wind still whistled. The sun still shone on the horizon, gleaming brightly and perfectly. And the world kept spinning.
The beautiful world that would, in time, go on without him.